Lost and Found Love
by Winds of Autumn
Summary: Vegeta is and FBI agent. Two years ago, his wife was taken. On the anniversary of her abduction, a mysterious tape is sent to the FBI. How will Vegeta hanlde it? BV, GChi
1. Renewing a lost hope

Chapter One- Refinding a Lost Hope

Moonlight sifted through the window, bringing minimal visibility in the darkend room. A man sat on the couch at the middle of the room, a glass of whiskey in his hand. A big, black lab lay at his feet, content in the quietness of the night to just be near his master. Glass gleamed from the entertainment center and the pictures on the shelves and walls. The navy carpet looked like a lake in the darkness, waiting to swallow the first to step into its blue depths. The color reminded him of her eyes.

The house had a homey touch, but wasn't warm like most inhabited houses. Every comfort was available yet never used. The house was brilliantly furnished, but the man sitting on the couch didn't care. He could have lived in his car and not cared. His work was all that mattered to him, and Boomer, the dog at his feet.

The television was blank. Vegeta Ouji had no desire to turn it on and watch the problems of the world being broadcast over the late night news. The T.V. had been her idea, as had the decoration of the house. But she was gone now, and the T.V. was never on anymore. It hadn't been on in two years, not since the news had broadcasted her death.

Vegeta shook his head as the phone rang. They had never found her body, but the evidence had been all too clear. She was never coming back, and he had to get over it.

"Hello," Vegeta answered, putting his whiskey on the table in front of him. Boomer stirred but didn't move from the soft carpet.

"Ouji, get down to headquarters immediately. You'll want to see this," the voice on the other end said before hanging up. With skills learned from ten years on the FBI force, Vegeta replaced the phone on the cradle and stood in one swift motion, stepping over Boomer and reaching for his jacket and keys.

Did they find something on the new case? Had they heard from the kidnapper? The girl had been gone for two weeks with no contact and no new leads. Her parents had almost given up.

Locking the door behind him, Vegeta climbed into his truck and sped to the FBI headquarters. The building was alight with activity, no window was dark. It was hell finding a parking space. When he finally walked in the front doors and flashed his badge, the on-duty gaurds nodded him through.

"Burns's office," they directed him. Of course, Burns had been the one who had called him. What did he want? He never called him at home any more, not in two years. _Two. _The number two haunted him. There had been them, a family of two, cut down to one. Two years ago.

The elevator beeped as Vegeta stepped in and pressed the sixth floor button. Stupid Burns, getting him all paranoid for no reason. He had though his paranoia had left him when he'd been transferred from the Terrorist unit to the Child Protection unit, but Burns had just brought it back.

Grey carpet, short cut and impossibly clean whispered under the soles of his shoes as he walked down the hall to his boss's office. He'd been there a thousand times, but he could feel something in his gut this time. Something had happened, something big, and it had to do with him.

Vegeta knocked on the door, waiting until Burns answered for him to enter before doing so and closing the door behind him. Burns was old; a heavy, greying man nearing his sixties. He had been on the force nearly fourty years, he had gained his family through the force. His wife had been a translator for the South American Ambassador when they'd met.

"Vegeta," Burns acknowledged, nodding to a seat. He was pasty, looking like he'd seen a ghost. Vegeta knew all about ghosts, but he didn't say anything as he sat. "We were sent a tape, dated two days ago." Vegeta didn't flinch at the two, but knew something was wrong. Two days ago had been the date of his wife's abduction. "We have people studying it and trying to find out who sent it, but I wanted you to know before the media got ahold of it. I know you don't watch the news anymore, but I just wanted you to know first." Burns paused, wiping sweat away from his forehead. How was he supposed to tell him? He had watched over Vegeta since the day he had entered the academy. He had watched the kid grow, had been best friends with his father.

"What is it?" Vegeta asked calmly, trying to settle his raging stomach. His gut was clenched painfully, and he knew the news that was coming was bad. "Is it my mom?"

"No," Burns said. He locked expressive blue eyes with Vegeta's dark ones. "It's my baby girl," he whispered, working the muscles in his jaw to keep for letting the threatening tears spill. His daughter had been thought dead for two years.

"It can't be," Vegeta growled, anger surging through him. Had she been alive for two years? Alive and alone under the cruel tortures of the maniac who had taken her?

"The tape is dated, and she's alive on it," Burns said, hearing the pain in his own voice. He had failed his little girl.

Vegeta didn't say anything as the rage poured through him. He had been through two years of hell, but what about her? What had Cold done to her during that time? Fisting his hand, he roared with rage and slammed his fist through his father-in-law's desk. Burns jumped back in surprise and rubbed his face with worn hands.

"They're examining it in the other room," Burns said, leading an impatient Vegeta out into the hall. Both were quiet, seething, as they stepped into the darkend room. On big screen, tied to a chair, her long, once gorgeous hair matted with mud and hanging in limp tangles around her slender shoulders, she was speaking.

"I don't blame you, any of you. Cold wants his brother let out and given his own car by Friday. He'll kill both of us if you don't cooperate," the broken female voice radiated from the screen. Vegeta snarled silently. She looked horrible, with black smudges under her sunken-in eyes and a bruise on her cheek and mouth. She had been delicate and small before, but now her bones were visible beneath translucent skin.

"He had two hostages?" one of the investigators asked as the screen went blank. The lights flickered on and everyone looked down at their notes.

A memory hit Vegeta. Two years ago, she had called him on his cell phone to tell him something.

"I have great news, love," her musical voice had rang over the phone, filled with happiness. "I'll wait up for you and then I'll tell you." But she had never gotten to tell him, because she'd been gone, stolen, when he'd reached the house.

"She was pregnant," Vegeta rasped, his knees almost giving out. Burns looked at him sharply, grief schooling his features.

"No, he would have killed the baby," a profiler said. "Theres no way he would have let it live. She would have grown big and he would have killed it, if he'd treated her properly, which he didn't. The bloodly clothes were from a miscarrige," she said. Chichi King; the notorious criminal profiler. They had been best friends. The pain was etched in her eyes, her face a mask of nothing, just like Vegeta's.

"She knew about the baby." It was a statement, made from the shadows. "She got away somehow, ran. He found her as she was having the baby, and she told him she'd go willinging if only he'd let her keep him," Goku suggested. Everyone stared at him, amazed at the intelligence he had had to use to come up with this theory.

"Maybe," Burns said reluctanly. Cold was exactly that, cold. Merciless, cruel, enjoying the screams and pain he inflicted on others. He wouldn't have let her keep the baby, not unless he was planning something. "Can we trace the tape? Anything? There has to be a familiar landscape in the background," Burns said, remembering the mountains and trees behind the chair.

"It looks like..." Chichi rewound the tape, pausing to examine the scene. "Beachtree Pass," she said. "Zoom in on the tree on her left," Chichi ordered. Immediately, the tree was filling the screen. Chichi pressed a slender finger to the screen. "VO + BB," she said, turning to Vegeta. Memories flooded Vegeta, threatening to drown him. He had held them back for so long, and now the dam had broken and they tumbled around him, choking him.

"Where I proposed," Vegeta choked out, his voice thin and strangled.

"Then you know where it is?" Burns demanded. "How far is it?" He had turned into a madman, dependant on finding his daughter. He had abandoned her twice now, and he wasn't going to do it again.

"I know where it is," Chichi said, heading for the door, pulling her gun out to check the ammo. Vegeta shook his head and stood, doing the same with his gun as he swept past Chichi and lead the way down the hall.

"We need a warrant," Krillen called from an open door. Vegeta stopped and turned to Krillen, dangerously slow.

"I've waited two years for the moment I get to put a bullett in that bastards head," he said, his voice a dangerous hiss of rage. "I'm not waiting for him to move her and kill her." Vegeta spun away from the shocked man and stalked to the elevator.

"Vegeta, you need to calm down or they're gonna have to restrain you," Burns's objection died away when he saw the drive in Vegeta's eyes. For two years, his only reason for living had been the hope that by some chance it hadn't been real. Now, they had proof she had been alive up to two days ago and he wasn't going to let God stand in the way of his finding her.

"Burns, I do this with or without your help. Either way, I'm gettting her back," Vegeta said. His life had been hell before her. She had been his salvation, and he had let her be taken and tortured. He would not let them have her any longer. He would get her back.

"Come on," Burns said to the unit behind him. "Chichi, get a crew together and tell them where to go. Goku, come with us," Burns directed as the elevator closed. Goku had just squeezed in as the doors had closed.

"I feel so bad." Goku hung his head, his sorrow evident. She had been such a beautiful person, seeing the good in everyone, willing to give anyone a chance.

"Thanks for looking out for her when you did," Burns said akwardly, patting Goku on the shoulder. Burns had had a fling with a younger woman the night he'd been promoted. He'd never even learnt her name, but seventeen years later a girl had come looking for him.

"I've been looking for you," she'd said, understanding in her deep blue eyes. "You are my dad." He'd known as soon as she'd walked in that she was his daughter. The physical coloring had been unmistakable. They had talked for hours, both sharing with the other, building a father-daughter relationship. Then she'd met Vegeta, who had come to see him about something.

She had fallen in love with him the moment he'd walked in the door. She could feel his pain and knew she could help. Nothing had kept her from him, not even his own past demons and pride. She had followed him, stuck to him, and loved him like he was the only thing in the world that had mattered.

Goku had been her foster-brother, looking out for her as an actual older brother would. When he'd found her curled up on the couch with a bucket of ice-cream and tears running down her face, he had gone straight to Vegeta and had a boxing match with him. As soon as she had turned eighteen, they had married.

The couple had been coming up on their first wedding anniversary when she'd been abducted. Her twenty-first birthday loomed near, making Burns's throat tighten and his heart swell. She was still alive. His baby girl was still alive out there somewhere.

"She was always the first to break up a fight, unless it was between her and someone who'd tried to take something close to her away," Goku remembered, his voice breaking as a tear formed in the corner of his eye. Bulma had been the only family he'd ever had, and now, after being gone for two years, she was back from the dead.

"I know," Burns said, lowering his own eyes as they filled with tears. He had only had three years with his beloved daughter, and now that she had been revealed as alive, there was no way he could let her slip through his fingers.

A/N Please review and tell me if I should continue! I need ideas, too. I have a few more chapters done, but I need help! PLEASE REVIEW!


	2. Authors Note: Please Read!

Alright everyone. I know that it's been a _really really _long time since I've updated. Here's the scoop. My family hit some bumps and its just now smoothing out. We've finally got a good computer at home that connects to the internet, and I promise I'll try my best to update and keep things going. I think for now, I'm going to work on Lost and Found Love, revising and continuing. And to those who were angry for the first born not being named Trunks, I've had the most brilliant idea, and I'm fixing everything. So bear with me. E-mail with comments, ideas, and whatever. I love to hear it. Peace out, Autumn.


	3. Finding What Was Lost

Alright. It's probably not a good thing to suggest skimming, but I didn't change much. Most of what is changed is toward the middle. I'm sure you'll find it. I hope you enjoy it. And only the idea was mine. The characters are all owned by someone else, as sad as I am to admit it. Enjoy, and submit reviews! Autumn

Chapter Two- Finding What Was Lost

The ride to Beachtree Pass was filled with tense quiet. It was nearing three in the morning, but none of the three occupants cared about the time. Loaded with flashlights and bullett-proof vests, the three were tense with the adrenaline rush. The picnic area was empty when they parked and continued on foot, but Cold could have come, dropped off his valuable hostage, and taken the car somewhere. He could have brought her here for the taping then left.

There were so many possibilities of what could have been done, but Vegeta kept the ideas at bay. He had to concentrate. He had to find his wife. She had been so young, yet so full of wisdom. She had trusted him to keep her safe, and he had failed.

The trees were thick and ever dangerous in the darkness. Dawn would be approaching soon and they would need the extra light. Quietly, scanning the dense Pass meticulously, the three men were exauhsted by the time the crew arrived. The sun had just started to rise, and the twenty men loaded with guns and vests immediately spread out, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Burns and Goku were loaded into the ambulance, given food and a blanket, and given the chance to nap. Vegeta chugged a cup of cold coffee and returned to scouring the woods.

Five men followed Vegeta to the tree in the tape. The heart bearing their initials had been crossed out with blood, but since there was none on the ground, the group assumed it was ketchup or blood from a small cut. Vegeta was ready to move on, follow the tracks on the ground, when someone called out.

"Hell...o?" Vegeta reacted immediately, following the cracked voice.

"Keep talking," one of the men answered, following Vegeta's lead.

"I...I'm hurt...I can't see anything," came the pained voice again. Bushes concealed a cave entrance that would have been passed had Vegeta not remembered it. How did Cold know all these things? How did he know all the special meanings to things shared only between the couple? Their first time had been on a picnic blanket in the cave, surrounded by candles and rose petals.

"Keep talking sweet heart, we have paramedics up the hill," Vegeta said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. It wasn't her and rescuing whoever it was took valuable time away from looking for his wife.

There was a pause as Vegeta wretched the bushes away and turned his flashlight on. The darkness of the cave was dispersed as the light shone through it.

"Vegeta?" the voice called, filled with hope and desperation. Vegeta stilled, his light shining on a small figure covered in dirt and caked in blood.

"Bulma." The name was wretched from his throat as he recognized the voice, finally. A whimper propelled him forward, gathering the precious bundle of thin skin and bones in his arms.

"We found her, be on the look out," Vegeta called, hurrying back to the entrance. The five men formed a circle around Vegeta and Bulma, their guns ready as they watched and escorted the two back to the picnic area where the ambulance was waiting. Burns and Goku jumped out of the way immediately as the paramdics took control. She was suffering from massive malnutrition, dehydration, early signs of the flu, and a broken arm. All found from quick examination.

Bulma was hysterical, muttering things in her own language, fighting the paramedics as they tried to help her. She'd been in hell for two long years and now that she was being rescued, her unstable mentality was declining fast.

"NO!" she screamed, the sound ripping from a raw, dry throat as they tried to give her an IV. Vegeta was immediately beside her, pushing paramedics out of the way.

"Bulma," he said, grabbing her hand and holding it firmly. Her large blue eyes locked with his, sparkling with tears and fear. "Look at me," he ordered. "Do you remember me?" She nodded and gulped, swallowing a hiccup as the paramedic finally managed to get an IV into her. The doors shut and teh ambulance pulled away, heading for the nearest hospital.

"Vegeta," she whispered, her hand squeezing around his. She was weak, so weak he hardly felt the squeeze, but she was trying so hard to hang on.

"Come on, just stay with me," he begged, kissing her dirty hand. The bones were thin and sharp in contrast to her skin. Once soft and satiny, it was now dry and caked with dirt and blood. "I've missed you so much," he said. "Do you remember the good news you were going to share with me tonight?" He tried to get her to revert back to the time before she had been abducted, hoping it would work for as long as possible.

Bulma's eyes brightened and she smiled, more of a wince than an actual smile, showing teeth that were still straight, but yellowed. A few were broken. "I'm having a baby, love," she said. "We'll name him..." she trailed off, bemusement on her face. "I named him Trunks, but...he was taken from me," she looked up at him, her eyes recognizing him yet far off. "I knew you would come someday," she murmered as the medicince that had been induced through IV started working. "I knew it," she murmered, barely audible, as her breathing evened and her eyes slid closed.

_The baby was sweet. So cute, innocence and completely trusting in her arms. A creation made of love. Hers and his. Trunks. Wide, dark eyes looked up at her in the fading sunlight, taking its warmth with as it settled beyond the horizon, taking its duty seriously as it dipped to warm the other half of the world. Such a sweet child, brought into such a horrid place, unable to be properly loved at this time. _

_Glancing over her shoulder, where the bones protruded in a groutesque way that was unhuman, she cuddled the child closer, wrapping his tiny frame in her shirt. _"Watch over him, Lord. Keep him safe when I can't. Amen." _Bowing her head, she kissed his soft, scrunched forehead, wondering if his dark hair would soften into her own color as he grew. _

_A noise behind her made her scurry forward, setting the small bundle in the dark, somewhere were someone would be sure to find him in coming hours. A tear slid down her cheek, falling onto the babys cheek as she drew back, trying to lead her follower away from him. _

Vegeta paced outside the closed doors. They had denied everyone access while they tried to stabilize her. Burns sat in a chair next to his wife, Lauren who was soothing him as best she could. Both had silent tears running down their faces. They had been shown a private waiting room, a doctor's office, while Bulma was in the ICU. Chichi and Goku were in the waiting room, since they weren't family.

Books, certificates, pictures, and letters from patients lined the walls. All were framed, as if they all held equal value to the doctor. Vegeta turned away, nausea and exauhstion making his stomach turn. He had been pacing for two hours, wearing a trail in the carpet. His once clean black slacks and white shirt were covered in dirt and sweat. He had been wearing the same thing for close to twenty hours.

The door opened and Vegeta looked up sharply. The doctors face was wrinkled and sweaty, but he smiled in reassurance as he closed the door. "She's sleeping right now. We've had to give her sedatives for the nightmares. She's retaining the liquid the IV has been giving her quite well, and her arm is set, but we still have to start working on getting her to eat. It's gonna take a long time for her to regain her appetite and fill out like she once was. I would advise that she see a psycologist, soon. From what I gather from her mutterings, sexual activity should probably wait for a year or so, if not longer. It's going to take a long time for her to overcome what has happend to her," the doctor said.

"We're going to keep her for a few weeks, until she is healthy enough to leave. I can have a psycologist come in and see her while she is here, if you would like," the doctor offered. Vegeta sneered.

"You want her to see a shrink when she's not even capable of eating or walking to the bathroom by herself?" he demanded.

"Vegeta, calm down. If you can't help her, no one can," Lauren said, her voice trembling with the emotion of her step-daughter being returned to her. She had never been able to have her own children so Bulma was her child.

Vegeta fisted his hands and forced himself to take a deep breath. "When can I see her?"

"You can see her right now, but she's asleep," the doctor said. "Room 32C." Vegeta nodded and surpressed a wry grin. Her room number had been her bra size, two years ago. He heard Burns and Lauren following him as he made his way down the hall to her room. She was still hooked up to an IV, with a monitor keeping count of her heart beats. Her parents stopped outside the door and turned away, deciding to give Vegeta time with his wife.

Her face was translucent, with blue veins visible and bruises splotched across her small jaw and cheeks. The rise and fall of the sheet over her was barely visible. Once wide, sparkling, passionate eyes were sunken in. Her ribs and hip bones were visible from the doorway, poking out of her thin body at the sheet. Vegeta's heart ripped in two a second time. He couldn't bear to see her this way, but it was better than dead. Yes, she needed professional help to overcome all that had happend to her and it would be a long time before she was healthy again, but she would be alive. She would never be the old Bulma, but she would be alive.

A bright pink cast was wrapped around her left wrist and lower arm. Vegeta smiled, she had always liked pink. Pulling up a seat next to her, he held her right hand in his, careful of the fragilness of it. She had been bathed, and all signs of the dirt and blood had been removed. Even her hair cascaded in clean, bouncy lavender curls around her on the pillow. She had always smelled like flowers and spices. She loved cooking. When they'd married, he would come home to a kitchen filled with baked goods and a delicious dinner. Like the angel she was, she would volunteer at the orphanage, the hospital, the church, absolutely anywhere she felt she was needed. Her cookies went to the elderly, the children, and anyone she wanted to give them to.

She had been made to love others. She had been given a gift to heal with her smile and tender caring, and now she would never be able to give that comfort ever again. He knew she would never get over the terror.

Vegeta smiled, remembering the time he'd stolen all her cookies to eat himself. She had turned red and yelled at him until he'd silenced her with a kiss and told her how good her cookies were and how beautiful she was when she was angry. She had stared at him and blushed, walking back into the kitchen to make more cookies. It wasn't the only time she'd been angry at him, either. He had purposely made her angry, nothing big, just small things, but he had loved the fire in her eyes and the passion in the kisses. Sex afterwards had been great, too.

One day he had come home and Boomer had tripped him, making him land face first in cream puffs on the counter. Bulma had run in, took one look, fell into hysteric giggles as she gathered Boomer to her, and watched him storm off to the shower. She had joined him in the shower, still giggling, and had told him that Goku had given Boomer to her for her birthday. Their first month being married, filled with laughter and love.

Then he'd had to go on a mission, leaving her for long lengths of time and returning with blood on his hands and stains upon his soul. She'd always jumped into his arms, kissing him with such passion and love, and raced him home. They would be locked in eachothers arms until his boss called with another assignment.

The night she had been abducted, he'd just been returning from an assignment. The joy in her voice had made him skip going to turn in his report and instead going straight home. He'd never forgotten the deadly silence of the house, the lights on, the furniture moved out of place from a struggle, the dinner on the table with candles and soft love music stopped on the sound system.

He'd thought he'd escaped hell, but until that night he hadn't known what hell was. The guilt, knowing she had been taken by a maniac he had most likely helped put away, had been tremendous, tearing at him until he couldn't be awake without a bottle of whiskey. He had turned into a robot, doing his job without letting his emotions out of the prison he'd sentenced them to. Now they were breaking free.

Bulma's hand gripped his softly, making him raise his head and meet her gaze. Her sapphire eyes were warm and loving, silently thanking him for coming.

"I thought you had all given up. I didn't blame you, I knew they would declare me dead after the first couple days and the shirt I delivered Trunks into wouldn't help. I never once blamed you Vegeta," she said, knowing that he blamed himself. "Never. You were all that kept me going. I love you," she whispered, bringing his hand to her face awkwardly, the needle from the IV biting into her as she bent her arm.

"You need rest," Vegeta said, ashamed to hear the emotion in his voice. She smiled slowly and pressed his fingers to her lips. They were cracked and dry, but still as soft as he remembered.

"I need a cookie," she teased, her stomach growling as she smelt the breakfast trays being delivered to patients. Vegeta stood and walked to the door, stoping the nurse.

"Can she have a cookie? She's wanting one," Vegeta said. The nurse stepped inside the room and looked at Bulma's chart.

"She'd better have some broth and jello before she has a cookie," the round faced nurse said. "I hope thats alright. Would you like broth or soup? What flavor jello?"

"Some potatoe cream soup, and strawberry jello, please," Bulma said, smiling at the nurse. "And when I finish that, I would like a gingersnap, please," she added. "Thank you so much, God Bless you," Bulma said as the nurse left.

"And may He bless you equally sweetie," the nurse said before leaving. Vegeta stared at Bulma, his wife, laying in a hospital bed. She was nearly swallowed by the bed. Was she returning to normal? She had always said that, God Bless you.

"Vegeta, do you still have my Bible?" she asked quietly. She had wondered about him many times over the past two years. Had he remarried? Was he a father now? So many questions.

"Yes," he said, returning to his seat beside her. "I can have your dad come in and I can go get it," he offered.

"My dad is here?" she asked, pleasure making her face glow with beauty. Vegeta nodded. "Oh, and Lauren too?" Again, Vegeta nodded. "Bring them in!" Bulma said, watching him in apprehension. Vegeta smiled, kissed her forehead, and left.

The few moments alone gave Bulma a moment to herself, to think. She kept feeling something nagging her in the back of her mind. Like she'd forgotten something important. She frowned in thought, not noticing right away when Burns and Lauren entered. They came without Vegeta, both pouring tears as they reunited with Bulma.

Remember, review! Send me presents! lol.


	4. Homecoming

Chapter Three- Homecoming

Bulma sat up in the hospital bed, her knees pulled up and her bible open on top of them. Her pink highlighter hung out of her mouth as she hungrilly read. She had sang silent hymns, prayed, and re-read the memorized verses to herself for two years. Now, she could read His word and repeatedly thank Him for not calling her home and she was desprately starved for the courage and fulfillment knowing Him gave.

After being in the hospital for two weeks, she was finally up to ninety pounds and medically healthy enough to return to her home with Vegeta, as long as she took it easy and ate when she was hungry and when she wasn't to regain her weight. Once at one-fifteen, she had twenty-five pounds to pack on before the doctors would let her off the medication.

The gift they had given her was the news that she was still able to have children, as soon as she was healthy and ready to have them. She had cried, calling out vocally to God in front of the doctor and thanking Him repeatedly for the unexpected gift. The feeling had returned, then, but still she hadn't been able to figure out what she was forgetting.

"'Mine eye are ever on the Lord; for he shall pluck my feet out of the net. Turn thee unto me, and have mercy upon me; for I am desolate and afflicted. The troubles of my heart are enlarged: O bring thou me out of my distresses. Look upon mine affliction and my pain; and forgive all my sins. Consider mine enemies; for they are many; and they hate me with cruel hatred. O keep my soul, and deliver me: let me not be ashamed; for I put my trust in thee. Let integrity and uprightness preserve me; for I wait on thee.'" Bulma closed her eyes as she finished reading Psalm 25:15-21.

_"Lord, please forgive Cold for what he has done. Please help my family see that it wasn't their fault, any of it. It was your will and it has been done, and now it is time to move on. Please, help me heal the scars I see in my beloved Vegeta. And thank you Lord, for seeing me through the past two years safely. Watch over my little boy as he crosses the streets in Heaven, Lord, for he is your child now. In your name I pray, Amen," _Bulma whispered, keeping her eyes closed and her head bowed for a moment longer as she remembered the innocent face of her son. He had had dark eyes, intense like his fathers, and dark, curly hair.

Bulma sighed and smiled sadly as she lifted her head and put her bible on the beside table, crossing her legs to sit indian-style. Wearing one of Vegeta's gym shirts and a pair of his sweat pants, she felt more comfortable that she had in the hospital gown.

Vegeta's hair had been cut, styled like a marines, and he looked familiar yet different. His hair was still jet black, his eyes still dark and intense, but there were more lines etched into his face. He'd been twnety-five when they'd met, twenty-six when they'd married, twenty-eight when she'd been abducted, and now his thirtyith birthday was just four months away. He still kept his mustache and beard short, like she had liked them. The feel of hair on her skin had driven her mad, and he'd known it.

A noise from the doorway drew her attention. Vegeta walked in, holding a huge teddy bear, chocolates and flowers. Bulma squealed and jumped up, glad they had removed the IV, and jumped on him, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he set the gifts down.

"Thank you," she said, kissing him lightly as she hugged him tightly. "You always did know how to cheer me up," she said brightly, reaching for the teddy bear. It was almost as big as she was, a light brown color with a red velvet bow at the throat. She squeezed it tightly and spun, ignoring the chocolates and flowers as Vegeta set them on the bed. He still hadn't told her about Boomer and she hadn't asked. Boomer would be waiting for her when she went home tomorrow, ready to lick her face in greeting.

"It was nothing," Vegeta said, his cheeks turning light pink. Bulma peered closer and laughed as she set the teddy bear up on the bed. Vegeta stared, watching in rapt adoration. She could still laugh, after all she had been through she could still laugh. It amazed him every time he looked at her how strong her will power was.

"Vegeta," Bulma said softly, gaining his attention. "You will catch him, right?" Her voice was scared, childish, needing protection. Vegeta held his arms out to her and she immediately ran into them, locking her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest as a sob slipped through her lips.

"I'll get him," Vegeta murmered in her hair, holding her close to him as she cried.

"Don't let him hurt anyone else," she whispered, clutching onto Vegeta like he was her anchor to the sane world. "Don't let him," she pleaded, molding herself to him. He was just like she had remembered, tall and full of muscle. She could feel her bones poking at him, but he didn't move an inch except to sweep her into his arms and rock her against him, like a mother does a baby.

"I won't let him get away with it," Vegeta promised, kissing her forehead as her eyelids dropped in exauhstion. With her medication and healing body, she only had so much energy, and it was currently depleted.

Vegeta sat there holding her for a long time, just watching her face and remembering. Hospital security had been tripled since her rescue, for they knew that Cold was planning something. In his heart, he wanted and needed to ask about the baby she had carried, but he wouldn't. He wondered, what had the child looked like? His name had been Trunks. Trunks Ouji.

He started as the doctor came in. "Mr. Ouji," the old man said, nodding his head in aknowledgement. "She can go home as soon as you sign her out at the front desk. Here's some more papers and perscriptions. She needs to go to the doctor for a check up in a week and you should probably not leave her alone with someone she doesn't know. She might have a hysteric reaction." Vegeta nodded, standing and laying her on the bed.

"I won't leave her alone. I have a few months paid vacation that has been adding up for the past four years or so." Vegeta stopped, realizing he had been about to tell the doctor why he had been saving his vacation. Why had he? Grim weight settled on his shoulders. He'd been preparing to go after Cold.

"Thats good. Well, sign the papers and you're good to go," the doctor said, smiling at him. Vegeta watched him leave and turned his attention back to Bulma. She was no longer sleeping, but sitting up and yawning, blinking sleep out of her eyes.

"I can go home?" she asked, the hope in her voice almost bringing Vegeta to his knees. Vegeta nodded, not trusting his voice, and stood. Bulma smiled, the smile that she used to smile, and Vegeta felt it like a punch in the gut. How could he have deserted her? She was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he hadn't even found a body to bury after her being announced dead.

Bulma saw the shadow pass over him and stood, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around him. "Its okay Vegeta," she said. "I knew you would find me someday and here I am. Its alright." Vegeta was silent as his arms wrapped around her and crushed her to him, not hurting her but holding her tightly. They stood holding eachother for a few minutes before Bulma pulled back and smiled.

"Can you take me home now?" she asked. "I know you hate hospitals, and I have a lot of cookies to make," she teased. Vegeta smirked, nodding, and helped her gather her things.

Stepping in the house, Bulma looked around, holding her breath. It was just as it had been two years ago, just a little dusty. Dropping her bible on the table next to the door, she walked five steps to the living room.

"Boomer!" she cried, seeing him laying on the floor in front of the couch. The dogs ears twitched and it looked up, cocking his head to the side as he studied Bulma. Slowly, he got up and came toward her, sniffing her hand. Bulma held her breath, hoping he would remember her.

He barked, jumping on her and knocking her onto her back, licking her face lovingly. Vegeta clapped loudly and Boomer jumped off and sat obediently, looking from Bulma to Vegeta and whining softly as Vegeta helped her up. Bulma was laughing, wipping her face off with her arm. He remembered her, and he'd missed her, it seemed.

"He's gotten so big!" Bulma said, standing next to Vegeta who was looking her over to make sure Boomer had done no damage. The two looked toward the front of the house as they heard the door open.

"Vegeta?" a sing-song, female voice called. "I brought some wine tonight!" Footsteps were heard and a grinning female poked her head in the living room, the smile fadding to be replaced by shock. "Bulma?" she asked, staring in amazement from Bulma to Vegeta. Bulma's eyes widened, darkness rushing in quickly.

_Tiny fists flailed up at her as she panted in exauhstion, sweat slicking her body even as she held him close. With her back settled against a trash bin in a back alley, she had given birth to her son. The pain had been astonishing, and the peace that had settled over her upon lifting the precious bundle into her arms had been simply breathtaking. _

_He was tiny, perfectly formed as all of God's children were. He had his fathers eyes, she thought, traching his chubby cheek lightly with a fingertip. So soft, like satin. Her mother Lauren had told her once that there was nothing as soft as a newborn's skin. And now, she knew it to be true. _

_"Trunks," she whispered softly, watching him stir and open his eyes at the name. "Trunks Ouji." _

Vegeta cursed as he stepped forward to sweep Bulma into his arms. He caught her just in time and strode to the couch, laying her there. Barking an order at the blue haired girl standing in the hallway who was staring at Bulma in shock, he lay a pillow beneath her head and glared.

"I... I'm sorry Vegeta," she said, her hands clutched at her throat. "I... You foud her alive?"

"Yes Marron," Vegeta said harshly, shoving past her toward the kitchen. He came back with a wet rag and a bottle of water. "Leave," was all he said, not even sparring her a glance. Marron pouted.

"I took the bus. Its not scheduled for another hour," she said. Her house was only twenty minutes away, in a car. Walking, it would be over an hour.

Vegeta sneered and gently picked Bulma up, carrying her to the bedroom and laying her in bed. Boomer jumped up and lay next to her and Vegeta tenderly pulled the blanket up around her. He had a feeling she would be asleep for a while, so he was safe to run Marron home and hopefully be back before she woke.

"Come on," Vegeta growled, grabbing his car keys and shoving past Marron again. She sighed and followed him. She had always know that she could never have something permanent with him. I mean, the poor guy still thought that his wife was there sometimes. At least she had had him physically for the past year and a half. She smiled, remembering the first time.

_Marron held Vegeta's arm over her shoulder, with her arm curved around his waist to hold him up. The bar owner had called and told her to come pick him up. He was stone drunk. He didn't even know who she was, saying, "Nice tits bitch," instead of greeting her by slurred name. She smiled slightly as she pushed his door open with her hip. _

_"Sweetie," she said, walking him to the couch and dumping him there. She closed the door and returned to sit on the coffee table in front of him, pulling something out of her purse. Setting the small package on the table, she stood and straddled his knees. _

_He smirked, running his hands up her waist to her breasts. "Nice," he murmered, cupping them. Marron nodded, bunching her hands in his hair. _

_"Yes," she answered. One thing led to another and they ended up on the floor, having the time of their lives. Vegeta hadn't remembered, but Marron had stayed the night. He had woken up with her all naked and pressed against him and they had kept up their physical relationship since then. _

Usually she called before hand, but he supposed that maybe he had been out when she had called. Pulling away from the curb, Vegeta glanced at his house and smirked. His woman was home.

Bulma sat up slowly and looked around. Familiar yet foriegn objects greeted her. An oak canopy bed with sheer curtains hanging from the posts, royal blue carpet, a large dresser and vanity table, a big black dog laying at the foot of the bed, looking up at her and panting. She smiled.

"Hey Boomer," she said, holding her hand out. Boomer shoved his nose under her hand and licked it, making Bulma giggle. Shoving the comforter off, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and walked to the bathroom. Standing in front of the sink, she looked around, noticing that everything was as it had been two years ago. The kleenex on the back of the toilet was almost empty, but had been replaced, the small doilies she had made still hung on the walls, the decorative towels were still where they'd always been, unused. She smiled. He had hoped she would come back.

Brushing her hair, she hummed lightly, chosing not to remember what had sent her unconcious. She had expected him to move on, so why did seeing her cousin standing in the living room, sweet talking her husband hurt so much? She shook her head, setting the brush down and walked to the kitchen.

Was it just the fact that Marron was her cousin? Or that her husband had to go to a whore that looked like her to be happy? A slight smile appeared on her face as she opened the cabinet. He had kept her cookie ingredients stocked. Still thinking about Marron and Vegeta, she began making cookies, calming herself. Boomer lay in the doorway, his eyes following her. She smiled at him, turning to the small radio by the window, and turning it on. Country music filled the kitchen and she smiled as Alan Jackson came on. One of his new songs, she supposed. She pulled out a bowl, pausing when the words caught her attention.

_That I love you_

_Like all little children love pennies_

_And I love you 'cause I know_

_That I can't do anything wrong_

_You're where I belong_

_Like red on a rose_

_And I love you _

_Like all little children love pennies_

_And I love you like good times_

_Of which I know many_

_And I love you 'cause I know_

_You gave me a heart of my own_

_You make my blood flow_

_Like red on a rose._

Bulma blinked back the sudden tears. Vegeta had given her a reason to survive, and she had given him the meaning of life back. She knew that his life had been hard before he'd met her and that he had trusted her like he hadn't trusted anyone before.

She sighed deeply, thinking about how deeply he must have hurt. Not being able to protect his wife as he hadn't been able to do with his mother and best friend must have done some serious damage. His own father had been abusive toward his mother and him. She had divorced Vegeta SR. and married Rouge who had been Burns' friend at the FBI. When his mother had remarried, Vegeta SR. had died to Vegeta, being replaced by Rouge who had loved his mother dearly.

Putting a cookie sheet on the counter while the oven preheated, Bulma looked out the window, seeing Vegeta's Pontiac GTO convertable. She smiled. He had finally gotten his car. She set the timer on the oven, putting the cookie sheet inside, and went to greet Vegeta at the door. They had a lot to talk about, but she didn't want to end up in an arguement.

"Hey," she said as he opened the door, glancing at her with barely supressed surprise to see her up. "I'm making cookies and I thought we could talk," Bulma said, taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. He followed her, hoping she wouldn't go insane and start yelling.

"Smells good," Vegeta told her, his voice gruffer than usual in self-defense. Bulma smiled and took a seat across from him.

"Vegeta," she started. "I'm not mad about Marron. Shocked, yes, but I had expected a wife and a baby. Knowing that you and Marron had a physical relationship is... Just physical, right?" she asked. Vegeta nodded, reaching across the table to hold her hand.

"It started when I was drunk," he said. "She picked me up from the bar and it just happened. Then she started coming around and while I was with her, I thought of you," he said, not meeting her eyes. Bulma smiled, bringing his hands to her lips to kiss them. "Vegeta, thats sweet. I mean, knowing that you had thought of me even while you thought I was dead..." she smiled. "I love you." She giggled as he looked up sharply, surprise in his eyes. "Yes, silly," she said. "Even after knowing everything I know about you." Bulma stood, walking to check on her cookies, and Vegeta walked to stand behind her, his arms wrapped around her shoulders and neck, holding her back against him. He breathed deeply, inhaling her scent, never wanting to smell any other.

Bulma closed her eyes, leaning back against him and smiling. Maybe they would make it, she thought. She knew that God had chosen her for him, to help her sweet Vegeta see the glory in life and love, but she wasn't sure yet what the cost would be.

"Vegeta," she said suddenly. Vegeta opened his eyes, kissing her hair softly.

"Hmm?" he grunted.

"I want you to take me out. To a movie or dancing, something fun, like we used to do," she said, pulling away from him to turn in his embrace. She pressed her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around him, not wanting to let go.

"Alright," Vegeta said. "And Sunday I'll take you to church." He smiled. "And this time I'll wear a tie and not complain. I have a lot to thank the Lord for now," he said, kissing the top of her head and just holding her. Bulma smiled.

"I would like that Vegeta. Thank you," she answered. Taking a deep breath, Bulma pulled away from his embrace and kissed his cheek.

"Now, go find something for us to do. I don't want to be stuck here for the rest of the night. I want to enjoy my life like the Lord intended me to when He gave it back to me," she said, catching a pot-holder off the counter and pulling the cookie sheet out to check them.

Vegeta nodded, walking to the living room to look up the restaurant he had taken her to on their first date. He smirked. She wasn't mad. She understood. _Thank you Lord_, he thought silently. _I have so much to be thankful for, but I'll start with thanking you for sending me your most precious angel to guide me. _He plopped onto the couch, seeing his mothers bible on the bookshelf. He stared at it for a moment, then stood and walked over, picking it up carefully, almost thinking it would scorch him.

A bookmark marked a page and it fell open, revealing the verse that had been preached at their wedding, by request of Bulma. Somehow, she had known that his mother and Rouge had had the verses recited at their wedding and had liked them immensely. Hosea 2:19-20:

_"And I will betroth thee unto Me for ever; yea, I will betroth thee unto Me in righteousness, and in judgement, and in lovingkindness, and in mercies. I will even betroth thee unto Me in faithfulness: and thou shalt know the LORD."_

Vegeta walked back to the couch, staring at the words written, thinking. How had the Lord known? He snorted. The Lord had arranged it, or course he had known. Why did he care? Now there was a good question. He would have to ask his mother that one. He definately wasn't going to ask Bulma. No way.

Reaching over, he picked up the phone and walked to the back room so Bulma couldn't hear him. Dialing his mothers number, he was relieved when she answered.

"Hello?"

"Mother?" Vegeta asked, knowing it was her but needing to hear her name in reassurance.

"Vegeta? How is Bulma?" she asked.

"Good. I was wondering... Well, I had a question. The verses they read at my wedding, about being betrothed to God and all... Why does He care? Why does He care to see that I am happy? Why did He send me Bulma?" he asked, holding his breath.

"Vegeta," his mother said slowly. "God cares because you are His creature, His child, His creation. He sent His angel to you because He was tired of seeing you suffer. Look up Psalm ninety one." His mother paused while Vegeta balanced the phone between his jaw and shoulder. "Verse five; 'You will not fear the terror of the night, or the destruction that wastes at noonday.' Verse fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen; 'Those who love me, I will deliver; I will rotect those who know my name. When they call to me, I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble.'"

Vegeta was quiet a moment, digesting this. His mother smiled, staying quiet as well. Once she had married Rouge, they had become Christians, but Vegeta had never seriously dedicated himself to God like she had.

"Vegeta, God loves you for who you are, because He created you. He only wants you to be happy, and to love what He has girfted you with and Him. Think about that and call me back later," she said.

"Bye," Vegeta muttered as his mother hung up. He let the phone fall onto the bed next to him as he stared at the words written in front of him. It was all to much to take in at once. Realizing that God did love him, that Bulma had been sent to him from God, a gift of His love, and that he could trust in the Lord when he could trust no one else was overwhelming.

He snapped the bible shut, dropped it on the bed, and walked out of the room. He didn't look back, either, as he walked into the living room and flipped the television on.

A/N: I hoped you liked it. If these beliefs offend you, I'm sorry. Don't read it. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review with your thought, good and bad. If I am to improve, I need both. Don't be shy, I'm not afraid. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. This story is going to become a mostly christian story. Vegeta will be saved. If I quote somethign wrong or you feel I should do something differently, please tell me!


	5. Cookies and Movies

I own nothing! Seriously... Hugs back of belongings close, hoping to inspire pity... Nah, I'm just messing with ya! Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I apologize for the lack of length, but it will probably be that way for the next few chapters or so. There will be a lot of flashbacks on Bulma's part, so look out for those. And please review! I love to hear from you!

And to those who reviewed, and continued to look for updates on this fic when I'm sure they thought it was dead, and reviewed when it was revived, THANK YOU! I'm so grateful for the support!

Chapter Four: Cookies and Movies

Bulma sighed as she heard Vegeta talking to his mother. She knew he was severely troubled with the Lord and everything that had happened. She wanted so badly to pull him into her arms and tell him everything would be alright, but she didn't know if it would. Only the Lord knew that.

She turned the music down as she heard him move into the living room and stood quietly in the kitchen for a long moment. Maybe she could get him to watch a couple of new Disney movies with her. Taking the last tray of cookies out of the oven, she left it on the counter to cool and walked into the living room, leaning her hip against the wall.

Vegeta sat on the couch, his head in his hands between his knees. He looked so dejected that Bulma's heart ached for him. His shoulders were hunched forward, a defeated look about him.

"Geta?" she asked softly. He looked up, quickly covering the helpless look in his eyes. Bulma smiled reassuringly. "Do you have any Disney movies?" He smirked and Bulma smiled.

"No. Wanna go pick some up?" he asked, standing slowly and stretching. Bulma smiled, coming to hug him. She rested her head against his chest and just held him for a moment, pulling away before he could wrap his arms around her.

"Come on," she said, kissing his cheek. "I want to see all of them!" She grinned at him, slipping her shoes on and pulling her stolen jacket over her head. It had the FBI emblem on the front with the name Ouji on the back. It was a fadded grey hoodie that she had borrowed from Vegeta after going through the house and replacing her touch.

Vegeta smirked and grabbed his keys. "You look good in it," he said, locking the door behind them. He had to take her to the DMV later sometime and get her her drivers license and stuff back. Then there was the mess with the state and government to straighten out.

The car ride was peacefully quiet, with Bulma content to stare out the window at the scenery and Vegeta listening to her exclaim over things she saw.

They picked out all of the new Disney movies they were allowed to and took them home, then went back out to get munchies and soda. With Bulma clothed in a pair of Vegeta's old sweat pants and a baggy shirt he'd had since college, the two sat on the couch, food littering the living room and the coffee tables, watching the movies.

Vegeta bathed in the sound of Bulma's laughter, remembering the times it had been as sweet and carefree. He was so glad to have her home. He would have kissed Cold's ass to get her back before, and now she was back: alive.

"Huh?" he asked, realizing Bulma had said something to him and he hadn't been paying attention. His heart kicked as a soft smile curved her lips and she leaned into him, sighing peacefully.

"I asked you if you wanted to take a shower with me," she said, amusement in her voice. Vegeta was quiet for a moment.

"Do you think thats a good idea?" Bulma smiled and moved away from him, standing and reaching for his hand.

"Geta, I just want to take a shower. With you. Alright?" Vegeta sighed, standing up and letting Bulma lead him to the bathroom. He wasn't sure he could take seeing her, still so thin and bruised, and not do something incredibly rash. Like march out of the house and shoot someone.

Bulma looked over her shoulder at him, smiling at him slowly. "If you don't want to, I understand," she said, lowering her eyes so he didn't see the need to be accepted there. Even in her current shape, she needed to know that he wouldn't turn away in disgust.

Vegeta stopped, pulling Bulma back against him and resting his chin on her head. He wound his arms around her waist, just holding her. "Woman, there is no way I would ever look at you and turn away. Not even if you were covered in maggots," he said, trying to joke with her. Bulma sniffled, laying her hands on top of his.

Vegeta slowly led her to the bathroom, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly undressed her, trying to show her how deep his love for her ran. His hands slowly pulled the sweater over her head, dropping it to the floor carelessly. It took some reserve of inner strength that he'd never noticed before to keep from sweeping her up into his arms and showing her just how much he did love her. Reguardless of her current physical state, she still had the ability to bring him to full arousal with just a look.

Bulma lowered her head, looking away from him. She couldn't see the disgust in his eyes. It would finish what Cold had started. She looked up as his fingers moved under her chin, tilting her head up so she had to meet his eyes. She was startled by the look of pure rage, helplessness, and love she saw there.

"I'm so sorry," Vegeta whispered before he kissed her. It was a simple kiss, gentle and full of regret and love. Bulma's arms wound around his neck, clinging to him as her life line.

"Don't be Vegeta. There's nothing you could have done to prevent what happened. Just, don't leave me alone again? Please?" Bulma closed her eyes as tears leaked out. Vegeta wipped them away gently with his thumb, tilting her chin up again.

"I won't," he promised, pulling her into a hug. Her arms crept around his waist, her hands locking together for a better hold on him. Vegeta just held her for a long moment before he drew her out of his arms, gently stripping the rest of her body.

Taking her hand, he led her to the shower and turned the tap on, urging her inside. When she hesitated, he nodded and pulled his shirt over his head. Bulma's eyes moved slowly over his upper body, over the rippling muscles she remembered so well, before she turned away quickly and climbed in the shower.

The situation would have been amusing to Vegeta if the circumstances had been different, but they were what they were. Following Bulma into the shower, he watched as she stood under the water, watched as it poured down her thin body, making her hair stick to her pale skin. He almost groaned.

Looking over, Bulma smiled at him, taking his hand and pulling him under the tap with her. She leaned up, kissing his cheek before she poured soap into her hands and reached up to massage it into his scalp. Vegeta reached up, taking her hands in his gently, and shook his head.

"Let me take care of you," he said before turning her away from him and lathering the shampoo into her long tresses. There were still tangles in some places, but most of them were out.

Bulma closed her eyes as Vegeta worked his fingers gently through her hair, untangling the tresses and rubbing the soap into her head. The smell, sugar and french vanilla, reminded them both of the sugar cookies she used to make and made them both yearn for some.

"I'm going to make some more cookies," Bulma said as she rinsed the soap from her hair. The batch from earlier would be cooled enough to wrap now and she had a lot of cookie making to catch up on. Maybe she'd work on making some candy and harvest loaf, too. Harvest loaf, made with pumpkin, chocolate chips, and waluts, had always been Vegeta's favorite. And Burns', too.

"We're going to breakfast at the church in the morning, and tonight, I'm taking you to dinner and a movie," he said, closing his eyes as he rinsed the soap from his face. Bulma smiled, kissing his cheek before stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around herself. Humming lightly, she walked into the room and got dressed in a knee length skirt and a powder blue blouse that was loose on her. There were still a few hours until dinner time, but what was the harm in getting ready now? Playing with her hair, she smiled to herself.

Perhaps things would work out like they might have. Like they were supposed to have.


	6. Ponderings and Nightmares

AN: For everyone out there interested in Harry Potter fanfiction as well as DBZ, Vox Corporis (MissAnnThropic) and Mistaken Judgement (atruwriter) are highly recommended! Both are Harry/Hermione fics.

This chapter centers mostly on thoughts, from both parties, and memories of precious baby Trunks. Enjoy! And thanks to my reviewers! I've seen repeat names from when this story was posted a very long time ago. Please, don't up and leave me now! lol. )

Chapter 5: Ponderings and Nightmares

Staring out the window as Vegeta carefully handled the car, Bulma smiled softly. Dinner had been amazing. Vegeta had pulled no punches to make it simply fabulous for her. Somehow he'd managed to call ahead, getting them their own table. The band had been asked to play specific songs. Her favorite pale yellow roses had been waiting on the table.

Goku and Chichi had even shown up, halfway through the meal. Bulma had cried. She knew that Vegeta didn't exactly get along with them-- either of them. He'd always simply put up with them for her benefit.

Sitting in the close, quiet confines of Vegeta's dream car, Bulma couldn't help but notice all the small things that Vegeta did for her, then and now. Her heart ached, tears filling her eyes. She wished she was still whole, still able to give him what he deserved. Lifting the long stemmed rose to her nose, she trailed the soft petals over her lips, smelling the sweet fragrance. They were the same petals that had covered the floor in the cave at Beachtree Pass. The scent was the same that had mingled with the newly discovered scent of her passions for him, the other half of her soul.

Vegeta had shown her things that night that she'd never dreamed of, and yet, she'd never looked back. Only ever forward. His passion for her had burned into worship, and hers for him had run into obsession. She'd craved him nearly as much as she did breath, and it hadn't been one sided. They'd spent every possible moment together, clinging and loving, pouring everything they were into each other.

Smiling at the memory, she realized now how naive she'd been, thinking that love could conquer all. She'd turned a blind eye to all the troubles, hidden things from him that she felt would only add to his burdens. The guilt in his dark eyes when he'd come home from his missions had nearly killed her. Every time, it had gotten worse, until she knew it had nearly consumed him. So, she'd stopped adding. She'd taken things upon herself, learned independence during their marrige that she hadn't known before.

Even know, Bulma cringed at some of the things that she should have told him. While he'd been away, she had taken a job or two as a temporary waitress at the bar in the next town over, needing the money but not wanting anyone to recognize her. And no one had. She felt guilty even now, knowing that she'd allowed Vegeta to fawn over her, buy her things that were frivolous and unnecessary.

"Are you alright?" Vegeta asked, his voice filled with concern even as it was gruff. He was him, he couldn't and never would be like Goku, who fawned and publicly gushed his feelings. Bulma's head snapped over, and she smiled softly, reaching over to rest her hand on his knee.

"I'm perfect," she said, smiling softly at him. "Thank you for the wonderful night, Vegeta," she whispered, leaning across the seat to kiss his cheek as he pulled into the driveway.

Vegeta watched her, a detached curiosity in his eyes as she opened the door, the interior light coming on. Her pale blue dress shimmered slightly as she slipped from the car, her thin limbs catching his eyes. His gut clenched, his pants pulling tightly suddenly even as he tried to keep himself from reacting to his wife. She didn't need that now. Sighing, Vegeta slid out too, locking his precious car before following Bulma up to the door. She'd left it open for him.

Glancing toward the kitchen, Vegeta closed the door. Bulma was humming to herself, putting the roses in water and settling the vase on the kitchen table. She looked up, her eyes wide and innocent, still as trusting and loving as always, as Vegeta leaned against the doorway. He could see it there. She had learned some very hard lessons, and she had changed. She had grown in a way that no one should have to.

Taking his cue from Bulma, he stayed quiet, allowing himself the pleause of looking at her. She looked amazing, even as skinny as she was. She was slowly gaining weight back, but it would take months for her to gain back as much as she needed to. The dress, new especially for their dinner tonight, was simple, yet had a stunning effect. It amplified her figure, made it look fuller, like she wasn't only ninety pounds. With simple flats and her hair loosely curled and worn down around her shoulders, it was nearly easy to believe that the past two years hadn't happened. Like it had been a bad dream, and nothing more.

Vegeta knew differently. Bulma knew, too. Her delicate finger no longer held the wedding ring that Vegeta had proposed with, the one that his mother had worn, and her mother before her.

Bulma took a hesitant step toward him, seeing the deep thought in his dark eyes. Lifting a hand, she cupped his cheek, tilting her head to catch his eye. "Thank you for the amazing night, Vegeta," she said softly. "I really needed it." He smirked, lifting a hand to brush his knuckles agains her soft cheek.

"Anything for you," he said, so softy that had she not been watching him, seen his lips move, that she wouldn't have believed he had said the words. She smiled, slipping her arms around his neck, pulling him close, her lips meeting his softly. It was, perhaps, the most intense kiss that the two had ever shared. It was filled with love, regret, secrets, passion, need, a small hope, and desperate sorrow. A simple brushing of lips, a clashing of souls.

Bulma pulled back, resting her form trustingly against her husbands. His strong arms slipped around her waist, holding her close, protecting her like she'd known they would. Mewling softly, she slipped her arms around him. The two simply stood, clinging. For Bulma, Vegeta was the only thing that could pull her back. For Vegeta, she was his heart and soul. He couldn't function without her.

After peace filled, silent minutes, Bulma pulled back. Kissing Vegeta's cheek, she slid away from him, heading for the bedroom. How odd would it be to sleep next to him again, she wondered. He had never been able to stay at the hospital, and it was her first night back, where she'd be sharing his bed. He had chosen to sleep on the couch the night Marron had shown her face.

Leaving the door open behind her, she changed slowly, relishing the feel of fresh cotton pajamas and the baggy gym shirt on her skin. Vegeta had kept everything. Her clothes still hung in the closet, her clothes were still folded in the drawers. And even with all the silky nighties that filled them, she couldn't bear to wear them. Couldn't bear to reveal herself in that way, wearing a pretty scrap to brighten her marred body.

Slipping beneath the blankets, Bulma had only just turned onto her side as Vegeta entered. She heard him changing, pulling on a pair of pajama pants before the matress behind her sank, giving her warning to Vegeta slipping into the bed behind her. Almost hesitantly, his arm slid around her waist, his hand finding hers as he lay against her back. His warmth seeped into her; her hand clung to his. Smiling softly, Bulma slowly drifted to sleep. It wasn't so odd afterall.

_His eyes peered up at her hazilly. The same trusting, loving gaze from moments earlier. She had fed him all that she could for now. She could only hope, could only pray. "I love you, Trunks. Always know that." He waved a fist, sputtering and blowing bubbles at her in response, as if he understood what she was saying and trying to reciprocate. She smiled sadly, wipping his cheek and head off with the corner of the shirt. These moments were precious. She would take them and hold them close. Kissing his tiny nose, a tear slid down her cheek, landing on his. His eyes blinked. He was so mature, so seemingly understanding for only an hour old. He hadn't even cried, she thought, almost frantically. _

_"Bulma." _

_She blinked, her brow furrowing. Who was that? _

"Bulma," Vegeta growled, shaking her awake. She was crying, muttering in her sleep, clinging to him and fighting him. He had scratches down the front of his bare chest from her nails.

"Trunks!" she cried, sitting up, her eyes wild as she looked around. Blinking, she slowly relaxed, seeing Vegeta. Swallowing tightly, she rested her face in his neck, grateful that he didn't ask for an explanation. He simply held her, calming her back to sleep. His hands slid up and down her back, holding her close to him as he protected her smaller body with the thick shield of his. He wished he could fight the past.

When she lay sleeping, still restless in slumber, Vegeta stood and paced. Even though he had never physically held the child, nor seen it, he could feel the chunk missing. The chunk of himself that he'd given to his child, the child that he would never see. Not only had he caused the abduction and torture of his young, beautifully innocent wife, but also his child.

Trunks, she'd called him. A strange name, and yet, one that seemed to fit a child that had been created between himself and her. Standing bare chested in front of the bedroom window, Vegeta allowed himself to stare out blankly, his mind creating an image of what the baby might have looked like. Had he been blue haired, like Bulma was? Had he been blue eyed? Had he cried when he'd been born? When had he been born?

So many thoughts spiraled in Vegeta's head that he finally moved away from the window, rubbing a hand over his face before staring at Bulma. Would Trunks have resembled her? So sweet and innocent, yet still stronger than anyone else he knew? Shaking his head, Vegeta made a grab for the pack of cigarettes in his work jacket. He'd quit, before Bulma's abduction. He'd started up again afterward. Going outside so the smoke didn't bother his sleeping angel, he leaned against the house, silently wondering why the almighty God had let something as horrible as Cold happen to his sweet Bulma.

Tilting his head back, Vegeta studied the star filled sky. It was an abyss, wide and never ending, like the pain and suffering, the darkness and unending crap in the world. The little diamonds that glittered against the dark velvet there represented, more in that moment than they ever had before, the happy moments, the memorable moments, that a person experienced in a life amid the pain and hate. He sighed, scowling at his philosophical moment. He'd had many under the influence of a bottle or two of his favorite Jack Daniels, but none as depressing as this new one.

Finishing the cigarette, he crushed it out on the concrete and tossed it toward the growing pile of butts. He paused, his gaze lingering up and down the deserted road, before moving back into the house.


	7. Eyes

A/N: I'm sorry its taken so long for the last two chapters. Chapter 5, I had finished, I just forgot to post it. This one... It's taken me a bit longer. Between school, home, work, my upcoming birthday, and starting The Meaning of Love, I've been pretty busy. I will try to get updates a bit quicker. I am sorry, too, that this chapter is a bit short. 

Chapter 6: Eyes

_His eyes. So cold, and inhuman. They hovered over her, flashing in the dark of the room he had chosen to lock her in this time. Already, her body was bare, his hands roughly handling her, demanding that she cry out in pain. It seemed to be his favorite game. He loved to hear her scream. He loved to taste her salty tears as they rolled silently down her cheeks. _

_He loved to leave bruises and marks. Loved to see her pale skin marred with blood and his semen. And he loved how she stared blankly, an empty shell except for when he took her to bed. Then, she came alive, biting and scratching at him, trying anything and everything to get away. She did it everytime. It only served to make him burn hotter for her, make the pain harsher. So she had finally learned to lay still, to scream in pain when he demanded it and when he didn't. She had to swallow her pride to protect her child. _

_She would never forget the rough feel of his hands on her body, demanding that she respond in pain. There had been once, only once, when he'd stooped to trying gentle. Bulma had kicked him in his manhood, receiving a beating for it. She wouldn't let him woo her body gently. After all, no matter how much you hated someone, your body responded to stimulations and ministrations. _

_His eyes hovered above her, sickening in their haze of lustful hate. He hated her. Hated what she stood for. What he'd taken. And even as he hated her, he couldn't bear the thought of a night without her. Perhaps it had started of with something simple, the need to dominate her body and desicrate the only thing good in Vegeta's life. It had evolved though, until he was consumed with her and her beautiful innocence, even as he tried to destroy it. _

_He had even told her these complicated feelings once, just before the incident where she had kicked him. _

_His malicious smile hovered over her, coupled with his eyes.  
_

Bulma sat up screaming, her body bathed in sweat. Vegeta was gone, but Chichi came racing into the bedroom, a wild look in her brown eyes. Seeing Bulma, Chichi made a low keening sound for her, rushing to embrace the woman. Vegeta had gotten a break in the latest missing childs case, one he'd been working on before finding Bulma, and Bulma had convinced him that he needed to finish it. To see it out. 

"Oh, sweetheart, are you alright?" Chichi breathed, hugging Bulma close, stroking her hair softly as she held her face to her shoulder. Bulma's body jerked, probably from suppresed sobs. Bulma had always been strong, always tried to hide any weakness from those around her. 

"Nightmare," Bulma whispered raggedly, unable to dislodge the image of Cold's face, his taunting smile and devouring eyes, from her mind. The sweat was slowly drying, leaving a nasty film on her body. Pulling away from Chichi, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing and heading for the bathroom. Chichi followed, ever the mother hen she'd always been, and watched with a frown as Bulma filled a glass with water and took a drink. 

"Do you feel like sharing?" Chichi asked softly, knowing that it would take some of the burden off of Bulma. The blue haired woman shook her head vehemently. 

"I couldn't. You would tell Vegeta, and it would tear him apart worse than he is now." Chichi shook her head, trying to deny the accusation even as she knew that Bulma was right. She winced. If Bulma shared with her, she'd feel obligated to tell Vegeta. 

"Bulma," Chichi said softly, waiting until Bulma had rinsed her face and dried it before continuing. "We never found a body with your shirt."

Bulma's head snapped up, her eyes meeting Chichi's in the mirror. "Why didn't Vegeta say anything?" Why hadn't any of them said anything? Had they thought that Trunks had still been with her? Spinning around, she grabbed Chichi's arms, her desperation felt in her grip, yet still dreadfully weak.

"He was probably afraid. I can't pretend to know what goes on in his head, nor do I wish to try to figure it out. We always figured that Cold had... done something with the body..." Chichi finished lamely. She could see the madness in Bulma's eyes. Swallowing, Chichi tried to think how she'd react if anyone took little Gohan from her and Goku. She could see herself responding the same way Bulma was.

"Trunks..." The name fell from Bulma's lips in a pleading whisper, her mind no longer registering anything except the possibility that her baby could be alive. She had set him in a place where a stranger could have picked him up, in the alleyway a street down from the hospital. Dare she hope? Had the Lord answered her prayer? 

Her legs led her into the bedroom, her body automatically going through the tedious routine of getting dressed. She didn't even know what she had put on. Chichi watched, her eyes glued to Bulma's form, which seemed to be running on auto-pilot. 

"Bulma!"

The sharp cry jerked Bulma from her whirling thoughts, causing her to blink. "Yes?" she asked, frowning slightly at Chichi.

"Where do you think you're going? It's one o'clock in the morning! And wearing that?" Bulma glanced at the clock on the nightstand, then down at what she had dressed in on auto-pilot. She gasped. She had chosen a mini skirt and one of the silk lingerie nighties that Vegeta had bought for her on their first anniversary. Her face flammed as she reached for the baggy shirt and shorts that she'd had on only minutes earlier.

"I'm going in to see my father in the morning. If there's any possibility that my Trunks is out there, alive, then I want him back." 

Chichi nodded, opening her arms for Bulma. She hesitated a moment, then accepted the embrace, finding comfort in the fact that Chichi didn't seem to be trying to talk her out of anything. As one mother to another, Chichi understood Bulma's need. 

When the two pulled apart, Bulma crawled back into bed and Chichi returned to the guest room. Chichi waited half an hour, then quietly pulled out her cell phone and dialed Vegeta's number. He had given her specific instructions, and because the man scared the absolute shit out of her, she would obey. When she got his voice mail, she left a quick message explaining what had happened. Of course, she left out a few details, but they were the ones that didn't seem very important. When she finally climbed back into bed, curling beneath the blankets, her eyes falling closed as sleep claimed her, Bulma was sitting up, staring at the wall and planning. 

Bulma woke early, listening to the soft, soothing sounds of birds tittering outside, of cars moving to and fro, of the coffee pot in the kitchen, of music videos playing low on the TV. She'd stayed up incredibly late, going over things again and again in her mind. She had let Cold convince her that her sweet little baby boy was dead, claimed by the cool chill of the morning or some animal. She had let him steal her child from her! 

Tossing the comforter back, she sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed to stand up. She didn't deserve to lay in bed while her baby was out there. There were so many possibilities that could have befallen her precious baby. Or, perhaps by some miracle of God, a nice family had found him and was loving him and taking care of him as she would have done. A nice thought, delusional as it was. 

Getting dressed, Bulma shrugged one of Vegeta's jackets on and headed for the door. Seeing Chichi in the kitchen, she paused long enough to snag an apple, then grabbed the keys. Vegeta had kept her car, and she was glad. "I'm going to go see my dad," she told Chichi at the woman's curious look.

"Call ahead first or they won't let you through security," Chichi advised, motioning to the cell phone that was lying on the table. "The numbers in there. Speed dial two."

Bulma nodded, smiling her thanks, and picked up the phone, wandering outside and leaning against the house. She saw the pile of cigarette butts and sighed, rolling her eyes. She'd get him to quit again, it was only a matter of time. 

"Burns here," the voice answered as the line was picked up.

"Hey daddy. I was wondering if I could come down, I need to talk to you," Bulma said softly.

"Of course, Princess. There will be a visitors pass for you at the desk when you get here. I love you," Burns said, smiling slightly. His little girl was back. He didn't think he'd ever get over the fountain of emotions that gysered up when he heard her voice or saw her smile. 


	8. Isaac

_Lost and Found Love_

_Chapter Eight _

_Isaac _

Bulma took her time driving to the building. She was cautious, always on the look out for another car to come speeding at her. Many of the ones behind her honked and passed her, and she could have cared less. She felt bad for doing just the speed limit, and cautiously making her way past the red lights and stop signs, but she couldn't help it. In the two years that she hadn't driven, she had lost her previous confidence behind the wheel.

By the time she arrived, she was surprised her father hadn't called to see what was taking her so long. Collecting her keys from the ignition, she closed the doors and locked the car up before biting her lip and heading toward the main doors. The inside was much the same as it had been, sparsely decorated and efficiently professional. Cold, almost. Shrugging it off, she went to the main desk and collected her visitors pass, keeping to herself when before she would have smiled at everyone and made conversation, taking her time getting to know all the new faces.

The elevator doors closed after she pushed the small circle button highlighting the number four, nearly making her panic. She was caged again. She couldn't breathe for a second before she reached out and grabbed onto the looming image of her baby Trunks and squared her shoulders. She would find him. Nothing would stand in her way if it was fated to be. She prayed that it was. The doors swished open quietly and Bulma stepped out onto the short cut carpet. Her shoes whispered across it as she turned to the right and made her way to the office.

She knocked briefly before opening the door and smiling at her father. "Hey daddy," she greeted before moving to take a seat. He smiled at her, the wrinkles in his handsome face making her realize just how much he had aged in her absence.

"Hello Princess," he greeted warmly, standing up from behind his desk. He moved to pour them both a glass of ice water, sitting next to her instead of behind the desk and handing her the glass. She smiled slightly, taking the glass.

"You never found his body," she stated bluntly, looking down at the short grey carpet so he didn't see the hurt in her eyes. The soul deep pain that she couldn't escape. Burns stiffened. "I... We assumed Cold had taken him too..."

Bulma turned her eyes on him, pained and determined at the same time. Burns was struck by them, so different from the innocent girl she had come to him as. She was a woman now, tortured by her own demons and forever changed. "I left him in that alley near the hospital. If he wasn't there, someone picked him up. I want to know anything. Did the hospital find him? Someone else? Was he adopted?" She swallowed. "I want my son back."

Burns nodded, standing immediately to see what he could do. It would take calling in a favor or two, but he would get the best on the investigation, even if he had to pay to keep it private. Settling in his chair behind the desk, he moved the mouse around to boot up the screen. Quickly entering his password, he waited for it to load his settings then pulled up the internet. Curious, Bulma moved to look over his shoulder. Pulling up the local hospitals page, he spent a few minutes finding the delivery page. Most of the hospitals had photos anymore.

Seeing what he was doing, Bulma stayed quiet. Positioning the mouse over the space where a date would be entered, Burns waited. "March," she whispered, licking her suddenly dry lips. Burns entered the month, then hit search. Waiting for the photos to load, he turned and looked at his daughter. He loved her so much that it hurt.

As the page loaded, Bulma leaned over and moved the mouse, scrolling slowly down the page. She took her time, remembering every feature her baby Trunks had possessed even from the small time she had held him. At the bottom of the page, she froze. Dark eyes, curly hair. Pale skin. Chubby fists waving at the camera. "Trunks," she whispered softly. Burns took the mouse, clicking on the photo to enlarge it. The dark hair had a tint of blue to it. The eyes were a dark black. Scrolling down to read the description, he skipped over the weight and length.

_"Found on March 20, at eleven thirteen pm. Adopted March 24."_

And then, beneath it- Isaac Thornton.

Bulma pushed away, turning to look out the window. Thornton. Isaac Thornton. "Run a check," she asked hollowly. Inside, she was overjoyed. He was alive. Her little boy was out there somewhere! But, would the people that had adopted him be as loving as she hoped? Gnawing her lower lip nervously, she forced herself to calm down. Isaac was a biblical name, which meant either someone at the hospital had named him, or his new parents had. A biblical name could be misleading. Perhaps whoever had named him had simply liked the name, and wasn't religious at all.

"It might take a while. How about you call Lauren and go shopping?" he suggested as gently as he could. Bulma closed her eyes and nodded.

"Thank you daddy," she said, kissing his cheek and smiling before she left. She wanted her son back badly, but she trusted her father with finding him. They hadn't know the whole story, after all. It wasn't his fault he had let it lay like it had appeared to them. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket as she stood outside the building, she called Lauren.

"Hello?"

"Lauren, its Bulma. I was wondering if you would meet me at the mall?" She heard Lauren's tinkering laugh on the other end, then a positive response. "Good. I'll see you there in an hour, the fountain out front. Bye."

Hanging up with Lauren, she looked down at her contacts, biting her lip. Goku. He would listen and understand. He had always been a little slow on the uptake, but he had been more loyal than most people she knew. Slowly, she dialed his number. She needed a friendly shoulder to cry on right now. Her son was alive! Her heart pounded in her chest, everything in her pushing her to go after him right now, and if she had an address, she would have. But she didn't.

"Hello, Goku here." The voice was familiar, bringing back memories that had long been dormant. Bulma smiled, relishing the forgotten feel of belonging.

"Its Bulma." She waited a beat. "I was wondering if we could get together and talk for a little bit?" There was a hopeful note in her voice at the request of the man that was like her brother.

"Of course. Come on over," he said, a huge grin on his face on the other end of the line. He had missed her, and even though she was indescribably different now, she was still the girl that had grown up with him.

Bulma smiled warmly. "See you in a few," she said before hanging up, slipping the phone in her purse before opening the car door and slipping inside. Things would work out. She would have her baby boy back soon, and they would all be a family. Her heart swelled with hope, a small short prayer that the Lord would work his miracles going up before she started the car.

AN: I know its been a long time, and I don't have any excuse other than I lost the motivation to write for a while. Hopefully I'll get back into the groove, and complete the stories I have started. Sorry this update was short, but it seemed like a good place to end it. Please, Reviews are welcome!


End file.
